Forest of Worth
by SnappleApple11
Summary: Henry is sick of being treated like a child, and decides to prove his worth on a quest to the Enchanted Forest. When he runs into Mulan, who is on the trail of a sinister force causing panic throughout the land, it seems like a golden opportunity. But what they find wreaking havoc in the Enchanted Forest is just the beginning. Post S4a
1. Chapter 1

**Hello readers! This is the start of a new, hopefully fairly long, multi-chapter fic that I'm rather excited about! Mostly because I remember being a 13 year old little shit. But I was a capable little shit, and if someone as capable and shitty as I was at 13 could get things done then someone as awesome and underappreciated as Henry definitely deserves his own adventure. M rating is mostly for future language, violence, and themes. Any other warnings will be posted as the need arises at the start of each chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine**

**As always, please Read and Review!**

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"Stronger stance Henry. You're trying to take the entire hit with your arms. Let your legs help." David took a step back to let his grandson make the adjustment before coming at him again with a wooden sword.

It was less than a month after the Snow Queen's defeat and Gold's exile from Storybrooke, and Henry had sought out his remaining grandfather for a sword-fighting lesson in the park. He hoped that something as physically demanding as a spar would take his mind off his growing anxiety, but so far it didn't seem to be helping.

When Emma had told her son what happened during her and Mary Margaret's adventure in the Enchanted Forest several years earlier he'd been beyond jealous. She'd gotten the total fairy tale hero experience; climbing a beanstalk to steal from a giant; fighting a pirate; saving a princess; meeting other fairytale characters; and just generally saving the day.

Henry wanted that too. Or at the very least, he wanted to feel like he contributed more to solving the crises that seemed to crop up around Storybrooke like clockwork.

"Two-hands on the hilt. I know it's not as heavy as a real sword but you gotta get used to the position," David noted. Henry threw his other hand up to join its partner, only half aware of what he was doing as he went through the motions. Swing, block, parry, swing, parry, over and over while his thoughts continued to race.

Henry supposed he had done his fair share in the heroics department around Storybrooke. Both his moms and all of his relatives had assured him that eating the sleeping curse-induced apple turnover that led to the first curse being broken was a heroic enough deed to last several lifetimes.

So why didn't he feel like he ever really contributed anything since then? If he let himself really think about it for too long it didn't even feel like he'd done much back then, either. He'd fallen asleep. It was his mom's kiss that had really broken the curse. Not him.

Right?

So Henry tried to prove himself a hero. He tried bringing Mary Margaret and Emma back from the Enchanted Forest (And failed), destroying magic in Storybrooke (Also failed), and then saving magic in Neverland (A failure of heinous consequences).

"Mind your surroundings lad!" Hook called out from where he sat on a nearby bench. Henry glanced down for a moment realizing he was about to fall over a tree root, and lifted his leg higher to avoid it, still fleeing an onslaught of strikes from David.

Killian had happened upon the pair on his way to the docks and decided to watch them; occasionally calling out bits of advice that either contradicted what David told Henry ("You might not always have both hands, lad. Best learn to handle yourself single-handed while you have options.") or just distracted Henry from the spar.

If only he could distract Henry from the thoughts that plagued him and ate at his conviction.

It definitely didn't help Henry's confidence any that for almost the entirety of the Zelena ordeal he'd been blissfully unaware of what was happening; still trapped in the false memories of New York and a world without magic or his large and loving family. He'd been lied to, had secrets kept from him, and been otherwise shoved off into a corner (and a hospital closet. Sharing a closet with Archie was not on his list of repeatable experiences.).

That was what bothered him most, being shoved aside and hidden away like something helpless.

"You're over thinking your moves Henry, clear your head." Henry went on the offensive, sidestepping a sapling tree and raining several sharp blows towards David's side. None the swings made contact but they put David on the defensive, forcing him backwards on the grass. Henry thought he heard Killian whoop in approval but was too engrossed in his thoughts to care.

The Snow Queen incident was supposed to be his chance to prove himself, to help save the day and show he didn't have to hide in a closet when trouble inevitably came knocking. But he didn't have much contact, if any at all, with the visitors from Arendelle so he felt useless there. He hadn't been able to pull Emma back from fearing her own magic and only got hurt in the process, and Operation Mongoose was barely going anywhere. Not to mention Regina's happy ending had gone and done the honorable thing by leaving Storybrooke forever with his wife and son.

"More focus, you're just throwing yourself around." Henry knew he'd lost all pretense of good form and was just blindly swinging the wooden sword in David's general direction, steering them towards the paved walkway closer to Hook's bench. He didn't want to hurt his grandpa so much as force his anger out through his strikes, hoping it would physically relieve some of his frustration.

Everyone saw him as a child. The townsfolk, his family, everyone always told him to run and hide when trouble came, or to go play with his toys when the adults wanted to talk about something serious that they didn't want him knowing.

Henry knew they all cared about him and had his best interest at heart but it was insulting. Damn it, he was thirteen! Not four! If they kept treating him like a child how would anyone ever trust him to make his own decisions or take care of himself?

What if he was never given the chance to prove himself? Not just as a hero or ally in a crisis, but to show that he was even growing up?

He could be trapped in an unwitting cocoon of overbearing parents and family for the rest of his life while the world passed him by and he never saw any of it.

"Whoa! Careful where you swing, Henry! That almost lopped off my head!" Henry's swings were chaotic and overzealous, with none of the careful technique and swordsmanship taught to him by his grandfather. They were raw and angry. It wasn't a spar anymore, it was target practice, and David was barely evading. David's shock at Henry's built up aggression and Hook's concerned "Henry?" couldn't pull him from his musings now, and Henry let his anger roll over him.

The more he thought about all that had happened since Mary Margaret first gave him the storybook during the first curse the more furious he became. He had come a long way from being a starry-eyed 10-year-old kid. He knew how to fight now, how to survive in the woods or at sea, even how to study and decipher magic. So why didn't anyone seem to trust him to help do any of those things?

"Slow down, lad!"

"Take it easy, it's not a real fight!"

Their words were the last trigger and Henry saw red. He heaved the wooden sword over his head to swing it down hard in what would have been a killing blow on any battlefield. David readied himself to block the blow but stepped back at the last moment, letting Henry's strike come down in a sharp arc in front of him.

"Shut up!" Henry cried out.

CRACK!

With a thunderous clap Henry's wooden sword smashed against the pavement, breaking in two and signaling the abrupt end of the once innocent spar.

The three stood motionless, the air thick between them and the crack of the shattered wood still echoing through the open park. Killian had risen from the bench at the sound of splintering wood but did not move closer, blue eyes shocked open and unblinking. David's face was just as stunned, his breathing still quick from the spar, and he looked at Henry with a little fear. They watched the boy warily, neither willing to move an inch for fear it set him off.

Henry's breath came fast and shallow in anger and fatigue, his heart racing and blood pounding in his ears. His hands trembled not only from the aftershock of the wood's impact on the ground, but also in anger.

"It's never a real fight!" Henry screamed, his brown eyes glued to the splintered wood littering the ground. "It's never a real fight or real training and it's never going to be my chance to prove myself because none of you take me seriously!"

"Henry-" "Lad-" Henry didn't want to hear any of what they had to say though because he already knew what they would tell him. It was the same thing he'd been told for three years now.

"No! I'm sick of being pushed aside when you all know I can help! I can do more than carry a book around or 'hold the fort' but no one will let me do anything else!"

"Henry, we just want you safe," David pleaded calmly. He dropped his own sword, kneeling on the pavement and holding his hands in front of him in a peaceful gesture, hoping it would calm Henry down. But the dam had broken and all of Henry's anger was rushing out, a river of frustration three years in the making.

"I don't need a babysitter to walk me back from school or tuck me into bed, and you can't just kick me out a room whenever you need to talk battle strategy. It's like none of you will trust me to think for myself!" The words tumbled out of his mouth, and with every confessed frustration a part of Henry felt a little lighter. His gaze moved between his grandfather and the pirate, the unlucky stand-ins for all his pent up anger. "I'm thirteen and I'm growing up! Why can't anyone accept that and start treating me like I can be responsible for myself?"

Henry let the words fill the space between them, let them echo through their heads and resonate for as long as his current lack of patience allowed. His eyes glared at the two, the brown depths silently accusing them and holding them accountable for everyone's thoughts and actions toward him the past three years.

Killian and David just stood there, unmoving and silent. Guilt and concern overshadowed their initial shock and both looked as though they wanted to speak, to reassure Henry with false promises of trust and true promises of their love for him. But there was nothing they could say to even try and brush aside what Henry had just revealed, and there was definitely nothing they could say to try and mend it either.

Nothing Henry wanted to hear right now, anyway.

He was too angry and he knew if either one said anything he'd just yell again.

Henry realized he needed to leave. He needed time alone with his thoughts so that David and Killian could be alone with his words.

He rushed by the pair and picked up his backpack from its place by the bench, dropping the shattered wood with a loud and heavy clatter onto the pavement, and walked away.

"Henry, wait! Come back!" David started to go after his grandson, but Killian wrapped an arm around him, holding him back.

"Let him go mate!" Killian struggled to restrain the prince, but managed to keep his hold.

"We can't just-"

"Let. Him. Go. He'll cool his head, and then we can all talk about it like grown ups, just the way he _wants_ us to treat him." David finally stopped struggling and Killian felt sure enough to let go of him. The prince bristled as he shrugged off the pirate irritably, turning to face Killian so he could stare him down.

"You better have a damn good reason for stopping me, pirate. Otherwise I'm going after him."

* * *

><p>The woods around Storybrooke were thick with trees and growing darker in the fading daylight. Henry didn't know how long he wandered or where he was going, letting his feet carry him wherever they wanted for however long they felt like, but he didn't want to stop to check the time or even to pull out his flashlight. The latter would have been more useful in that moment since his foot accidentally made contact with several hidden tree roots and holes, only fueling his anger and irritation.<p>

He was still tingling with the aftereffects of his outburst. His fists clenched around the straps of his backpack, anchoring him to reality, while his mind drifted away as it replayed his earlier words. As guilty as he knew he would feel about his anger later, right now Henry didn't want to lose the high rushing through him, the exhilaration that came with seeing the fear and shock on David and Killian's faces. Knowing he surprised them and made them question what they knew about him was new thrill that he didn't want to give up yet.

It left them open to being proven wrong about just how capable Henry was at taking care of himself, a notion that had Henry's lips curling upwards in a self-assured sneer.

A growl of thunder filled the sky, interrupting the flow of his prideful thoughts, and Henry finally took note of the dark clouds making their way toward town.

Maybe hiding out in the woods wasn't the best place to try and be alone. But Henry needed to be alone right now to revel in what he'd finally done and to think about what he should do next. He hadn't meant for everything to come out like that, angry and temperamental like the child he was trying to prove he wasn't, but he was glad it was out. It needed to be said and Henry would do it again if he could.

Another low rumble from the sky had Henry thinking about his options for shelter. He didn't want to see any of his family right now. Seeing them would feel like surrendering, like he'd thrown away all the ground he had gained from his earlier outburst. On top of that, he didn't think he would make it to the town center by the time the rain started falling (He guessed it was going to rain, anyway. The sky had gotten too dark too fast to do anything but drop a torrent of water on the town at this point.).

His castle in the park was a definite no-go. There would be no protection against the weather and his family would know to find him there. It was the first place they would look.

He supposed he really should stay with a family friend for the night, like Granny or one of the dwarves. It would mean a call to his family letting them know he was safe and that he may or may not see them before lunch the next day, depending on how he was feeling, but Henry found he didn't want to see anyone right then. Not just his family, but their friends too. They would all ask questions he wasn't ready to answer yet, or worse, they would just think he was being childish by running away from home and from everyone that he needed to talk to about his frustration and anger.

So where could he go that would give him the temporary solitude he wanted and a roof over his head? Were there any barns nearby? Or maybe the horse stables? He didn't want to run away, per se, but he definitely wouldn't mind being a realm or two away from the town for a while.

Henry finally stopped walking and took a long look around to get his bearings. In the fading daylight he could see a paved road a short ways off, and in the distance beyond that…

A wave of relief swept through him as he recognized the towering building on the hill. It was the Sorcerer's abandoned mansion, the one with the blank storybooks and the door to Arendelle. It would be perfect. He would be far enough from his family that he had time to think and be alone, and there would be a roof over his head for the storm.

Henry reached the mansion in what was probably record time, mostly because he ran the last mile when the rain started. It would be dry and warm inside the mansion but he did not want to be drenched and shivering by the time he got there.

Breaking in was all too easy since the doors were unlocked and unguarded, which made no sense at all to Henry. Who left somewhere with such a treasure trove of stuff unguarded like that? There had to be a magical booby trap somewhere? Or the owner could have at least invested in a security camera?

On second thought, there probably was no security camera. They weren't exactly a common sight in Storybrooke after all.

The pounding rainfall outside made the idea of leaving the mansion less and less likely, and search as he might; there was nothing Henry could see that made him feel unsafe, or even unwelcome in the large estate. Every room had a warm light and a warmer air in it, as if the house was somehow alive or magically inclined to try and make Henry feel welcome. The idea that magic could have been involved in the mansion's odd warmth should have made Henry nervous, but there was no uneasy gut feeling or alarm bells in his head that made him want to turn tail and run from the place.

Maybe it was just a really friendly house with a really friendly and absent owner?

When he could find no obvious reason not to stay, Henry quickly moved through the rooms, eager to find one with a couch or a bed where he could sleep. The mansion was so large and there were so many rooms and interconnected hallways that Henry realized he was checking the same rooms several times, unless of course there was more than one ballroom and several exact replica bedrooms all bedecked in the same red and gold theme.

It was on what had to be his fourth re-entry into the hidden room with the blank storybooks that he found something weird: a doorway standing in the middle of the room that definitely was not there before.

Henry's thoughts instantly went to the Arendelle door from last month, but this doorway was different. The colors were wrong, and the patterns too. The Arendelle door was wintery, painted in cool blues, and it's flowers were something Elsa had claimed were native only to her kingdom. This door was painted with images of what had to be a forest in rich browns and greens, and inlaid with engravings of white flowers.

Henry instantly recognized the flowers from his storybook, or at least from the illustration borders. They were the snowbells surrounding the pages that followed his grandmother Snow White's story, the flowers she was named for. This was a doorway to Snow White's kingdom in the Enchanted Forest.

It was like a bolt of lightning shot through him in epiphany. This could be his chance, he realized. He sure as hell wasn't getting a chance to prove himself any time soon here in Storybrooke, but now he could finally go to the Enchanted Forest, could go on a quest or solve some small problem there, and his family would finally realize his worth in a crisis. After all, how often did a portal door just happen to show up in Storybrooke? If he didn't take the door now, he might never see it again, might have missed his shot forever.

He reached for the door, hand trembling in excitement. Maybe he would meet a knight who could show him a new fighting style? Or maybe there would be trolls to defeat or a princess to save? There might even-

Buzz Buzz! Buzz Buzz!

Henry was pulled from his daydream by the vibrating of his cell phone deep in his backpack. It had slipped his mind to get in touch with his family about where he would be spending the night. He hadn't been listening for his phone during his earlier trek either, so there were probably several messages and voicemails from everyone by now.

He dug the phone out from his bag, holding it loosely to look at the caller ID. It was Emma. Hook and David had probably told her what happened by now. Regina had probably been told too. And if they all knew then Mary Margaret definitely knew and so did the rest of the town.

Henry knew he was still angry from his earlier outburst, and that he was being rash and impulsive, but he also knew he couldn't let this chance slide. And if he answered the phone now it might mean the end of his conviction to walk through the door.

He dropped the still ringing phone to the ground, where it clattered noisily on the wooden floor. He wouldn't need it the Enchanted Forest, he reasoned. There probably wasn't cell reception anyway.

Backpack on and mind made up, Henry pushed the door open; his head high as he walked through to what he hoped would be the first step on his quest for adventure and fulfillment.


	2. Chapter 2

**As always, read and review**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.**

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"Why can't I go after my grandson?"

"Just wait a little longer, mate."

"Hook."

The pirate looked up at the prince, eyes imploring him to be patient for just a little longer, but David wouldn't have it. If Killian wouldn't let him go after Henry then there had to be a damn good reason why.

Killian held the other man's steely gaze for a moment, searching for something as he asked him, "What do you remember of being thirteen?"

The question made David pause as he realized where Killian was going with his logic. What did it matter what David was like at thirteen? He and Henry weren't the same person and their worlds weren't either, it wasn't a fair comparison. "That's different, I worked on a farm with my mother and the worst we had to worry about was Bo Peep. She was trouble but she wasn't an evil curse."

Killian's eyes stayed locked on David's and they narrowed, unhappy with the response.

The pirate tried again. "But your mother trusted you to run things on the farm? To look after the livestock without her breathing down your neck?"

David settled his hands on his hips and took a deep breath, hoping it would calm his growing annoyance at the pirate, but it only worsened. Didn't he understand that rewording the same idea wasn't going to make David suddenly see things differently?

"I'm telling you, this world and the Enchanted Forest aren't the same. Back then I had to grow up enough to take care of things, but here, Henry doesn't have to. He can be a kid and play and go to school for longer. He can let the adults figure out where to earn money for food, or how to fight a battle." His breathing had picked up despite his best efforts and David could feel his shoulders tensing with every passing second he and Hook argued.

Hook had the nerve to laugh. It was a mocking snort that had David itching to punch the pirate in irritation, composure be damned. "Battle? In your own kingdom the lad's only a year away from conscription age, but here you won't let him bear witness to a single foe. Better to throw him in a closet or in a vault or on a ship. If you're so afraid of the world hurting him, why not just ship the lad off to Neverland then? Pan's gone and so are the Lost Boys, there's no one else as can hurt him there. Why not tuck Henry away on that Gods forsaken island where he'll never grow up and he can remain innocent and carefree forever! At least then you need not fear him outgrowing any of his saviors!"

David gave in, and let his fist fly. The contact of his fist against Hook's nose was all too satisfying, as was watching Killian take several steps back to recover from the blow.

David thought he heard the pirate mutter "that again?" under his breath, but didn't care enough to ask what he meant. His nose didn't look broken, but a thin, slow trail of blood started to flow from it, and he dabbed at the redness with his hand. If Killian was angry about the punch, he didn't show it. He seemed more annoyed than anything else, but even the annoyance fled his face after a moment and was replaced by something warmer and more resolute.

"Mate, the point I'm trying-"

"He's still a kid," David interrupted, unwilling to let the pirate speak until he'd made his point. "The rest of us had to grow up too fast and that's not what I want for Henry. He shouldn't have to feel like the fate of the world is in his hands when all he should be thinking about is school or his friends. The kid deserves his best shot at something normal with his family and I'm not gonna take that from him just because he suddenly wants to learn to fight ogres."

His voice started to shake at the end and his breathing had grown ragged, but David held Hook's eyes steadily, hoping that his gaze would help drive home the point. He knew he was getting worked up but this was important to him. Henry having a life without fear of death that included the honest love of all his family was important to him. Hadn't the kid suffered enough at Pan's hands? And what about during the first curse when people tried to convince him he was insane? If David could keep his grandson from experiencing that kind of hurt again then he would do everything he could to make sure the boy was safe, even if that meant having Henry hide out somewhere.

Silence filled the space between them, the only sounds David's shaking breathing and the wind blowing thick clouds across the sky. David didn't acknowledge the coming storm though, only barely registering in the back of his mind that the clouds looked almost ready to drop a deluge of rain.

Killian's demeanor was calmer than David's, even under the scrutiny of the prince's stare. He waited several more heartbeats once he realized David was finished before speaking, his voice low but firm.

"Mate, you're absolutely right that Henry deserves his childhood, but he also deserves the chance to grow up if he chooses, which he clearly does. I'm not saying he's ready to slay ogres or villains on his own but he's no hatchling either. All he wants is to be treated as a young man, not coddled like a helpless babe. Henry's more capable than many of us realize and I'd bet if we ask it of him, he'd rise to any challenge."

David could feel his eyes widen and his breathing slow closer to normal.

It was only recently that David really appreciated just how perceptive the pirate was of the people around him and what drove them. It probably had a lot to do with his almost three hundred years of social interaction via piracy, but David suspected it had more to do with Killian's nature. He was incredibly observant, and for all that he could talk anyone's ear off he could also listen better than most.

If Killian ever wanted a career as a therapist he would definitely give Archie a run for his money.

When David didn't respond immediately Killian added, "He has faith in all of you, perhaps what he's asking now is for a return of that trust?"

David's shoulders dropped in resignation. Of course he trusted Henry, but maybe Hook was right. Maybe he didn't trust him as the young man he was growing into, but just as a grandson to be protected. He'd been looking at Henry through rose-colored glasses, only willing to see him through an idyllic childhood lens. What if he had created a mental block against Henry growing up because he didn't want to accept that he had missed out on another family member's childhood?

Maybe it was time to take off the rose-colored glasses. David had already missed most of Henry's life while in a coma; he didn't want to miss the rest of his growing up.

"We should talk to him. It's getting dark," David said, his tone softer this time to let Killian know he understood what the pirate was trying to say.

Hook didn't stop David this time as he strode forward toward the woods where Henry ran. He only sidled up next to him with the same eager footsteps.

"Where do you think he is? If his qualm is with all of us then I doubt he'd go to your flat or Regina's home," Killian noted, his tone quiet and still wary of David's reaction.

David didn't have to think too hard about that. "If he's not in the woods just watching us right now, then he went to his castle in the other park. Let's give him a call first though. He always has his phone with him."

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his grandson; unsure and a little nervous about what he would say when the boy picked up. An apology would probably be a good start, and then an offer to talk about everything over coffee.

Ok, not coffee. Henry wasn't _that_ grown up yet.

After several unanswered rings the call went to voicemail. At least they knew Henry's phone still had battery. Maybe Henry was ignoring the call because he didn't know what to say either, David thought. So he left a message, telling Henry he was sorry and could he please call him back so they could talk?

"Let me try, mate." Killian pulled out his own phone and dialed.

Same ringing. No response. Killian left his own apology message.

"Perhaps he's still on edge?" Killian suggested, the hopefulness of his voice not quite reaching his eyes.

"Maybe…" Something felt off, and David did his best to push the unease aside. The sooner they found Henry the better, and the sooner they talked to him the sooner they could move forward.

David and Killian wandered the edge of the woods but found no sign of Henry. They each left several more messages on his phone as they searched, but there was still no returned phone call by the time they reached his castle at the other park, and the men were growing anxious. Their steps were faster and longer now, their movements a little more harried and restless. They swatted through the underbrush, not even following the paths anymore, hoping that some scrap of clothing had caught on a branch and left a trail. Soon they were both shouting Henry's name in the woods, scaring off birds and animals.

Unfortunately, there was no trace of Henry anywhere.

The clouds were moving faster, closing in on Storybrooke with a ferocity that only made David more nervous. What if they couldn't find him before the storm hit? What if Henry got lost in the woods and had to spend the night out in the rain and the cold and-

No. Breathe.

Remember what Killian said. Henry's more capable than he's given credit for. He's been camping plenty of times with Robin Hood and Roland, and he knows the woods as well as anyone in town. Henry wouldn't get lost, and his stubborn streak wasn't so long that he would sit out in the rain to prove a point. Maybe he'd let Killian and David both wander aimlessly in worry for a while, but he definitely wouldn't knowingly put himself in harms way.

Henry would find shelter. He would find a family friend or someone else in town to stay with and he would call.

Except when David tested that theory and called Granny, then Archie, and then several of the dwarves, they had no idea where Henry was. No one knew.

David's hands were shaking now, and Killian wasn't fairing much better. The pirate had quickly realized Henry didn't want to be found, and until he was found the blame for his disappearance would rest with him, since he was the one to hold David back from running after Henry in the first place. His one good hand rubbed his chin nervously, eyes darting about the forest looking for some clue as to where Henry had gone.

Hook suggested they split up to widen their search. David was too caught up in his nerves to disagree, and with the promise of a phone call should either of them find anything, he watched Killian wander off deeper into the woods.

It was growing darker and the sky rumbled in warning, an ominous reminder of the passing time. Had it been so long since Henry had run? Since Killian had gone to search on his own? David couldn't tell anymore whether the sky was darkening because of the coming storm or because the sun was setting. Maybe he should have sent Killian with a flashlight. Not that he even had one to offer, but searching in the dark was useless if he couldn't see.

It was while David was retracing his steps toward the park that the sky opened up. The rain was heavy and fat, falling down in streams that were interrupted only by the thick foliage of the trees. But the evergreens could only stop so much of the deluge, and within minutes David felt his shirt and pants sticking to him like an ill-fitting second skin.

The ringing of his phone pulled his mind from his misery. Had Henry finally called? Had the rain forced him to give up his hiding place?

But as he wrenched the phone from his pocket and saw his daughter's name lighting up the screen, he forced himself not to be disappointed. Maybe Henry had gone to see her after all, and he'd told her about their fight and she was just calling to tell him Henry was safe. That was still possible, wasn't it?

Hope somewhat restored, he answered the phone eagerly. "Emma!"

"_Um, David, hi? Listen, Regina just called and wanted to know if Henry was still with you? Neither of us can get a hold of him."_

And just like that, any notions of an easy reunion were shattered. David had hoped that they would find Henry before Emma and Regina had a chance to realize their son had gone off. It was the only reason he had kept Henry's storming off hidden from the boy's mothers at all. That tiny ray of hope was all David had left to cling to, but now guilt rained on him as heavily as the water currently beating on him from the sky.

"He's um, well he's…"

"_Dad? Where's Henry?" _His daughter's voice hardened instantly. Trust a mother's instinct to know when their children may be in danger.

Better to bite the bullet. He shouldn't have even kept it from her for this long. "Emma, you see…" He told her everything that had happened that afternoon. Henry seeming over eager about a sword fighting lesson, his anger during the spar, his outburst, and storming off into the woods. David did his best to remember Henry's exact words, hoping Emma would be able to shine some light on Henry's attitude the way Killian had, but he was met with stony silence.

So Emma didn't know about Henry's feelings on the subject either. That couldn't have been good for Henry's efforts.

He tried in vain to add the further explanation of Killian's logic, how Henry was tired of being coddled and shoved aside when things got hairy with new villains and curses, and how it was and wasn't different from David's growing up on the farm. David wasn't sure he was phrasing it right though because it sounded ridiculous to his own ears. It made sense when Killian said it, why didn't it seem to make sense now that David was trying to tell someone else?

He finally got a disgruntled response out of Emma, her expansive voice filling the hopeless void left by Henry's continued absence.

"_Of course Killian would see through… But if Henry wanted to be treated like an adult he wouldn't have run off. Shouldn't have run off. Or he'd at least have the common sense to call someone or- I don't know if he's being dramatic or just- Grr! Forget it, I'm calling that kid again!"_

The line went dead abruptly, and David became acutely aware of the heavy rain echoing in the dimming forest and just how cold and uncomfortable his soaked clothing was.

Shit.

Emma knew now. They were no closer to finding Henry and now the boy's mother knew. Hell, both of his mothers were gonna know soon enough, and there was no way David would ever be ready to face their combined wrath.

Shit shit shit.

They had to find Henry.

Time wore on and the rain only worsened, along with David's dwindling hope of finding Henry anytime soon. By now the rain had even soaked through his boots, seeping through his socks and into his skin. His throat was raw from yelling, fingers pruned, and phone clenched impossibly tight in his hand, all failed physical distractions from the fears racing through his mind.

What had happened to Henry? If he wasn't answering anyone's calls and there was no sign of him, then was he even all right? Was he hurt?

David didn't even hear his phone ringing again, only noticed the glow of the screen flashing the incoming call. He half prayed it was Emma again; calling to say Henry had finally answered her. When he saw Killian's name, it was all David could do to grasp a string of hope that the pirate had found Henry. David had to believe that Killian's solo search had yielded some answers. He couldn't give up yet. His family never gave up on each other.

"Killian?" God, his voice sounded so dead and defeated. He needed to be more hopeful. Where was the eagerness he'd had when Emma called?

"_Mate, it's at the mansion! The doors were open and in this storm Henry would take shelter and maybe just want to talk this out with us but he went- Just get your arse over here! We can't let him go any further!"_ It was hard enough to decipher the man's lilted accent through the sloshing rain around David, but the pirate was also talking a mile a minute and David struggled to keep up.

"Killian, what the hell are you saying? What did you find?"

"_Henry's phone, mate! It's at the mansion where that portal door to Arendelle was! Henry's not here, but I know exactly where he's gone and we need to hurry. There's no telling what's happened to him over there." _David had never heard Killian's voice so borderline hysterical. The pirate was always composed under pressure. Something was very wrong if Killian was this frantic.

"Over where?" He was terrified to ask, but he needed to know.

"_The Enchanted Forest, mate. I found Henry's phone in front of a portal door to the Enchanted Forest. There are blank storybooks everywhere and there's no sign of a struggle. He went through on his own."_

Shit.

Sheer headiness raced through David and the world spun. He was flooded half with relief at finally having some clue as to Henry's whereabouts, and half terror at what was possibly to come for his grandson.

So much for Henry not knowingly putting himself in harms way.

Killian had said Henry wanted to be treated as an adult, and that the best way to start doing that was to talk to Henry like one. But apparently Henry had other ideas about what earning adulthood entailed. He'd gone through the portal to the Enchanted Forest, probably on some foolhardy quest to prove he was mature enough to stop a villain, and he would most likely be hurt in the process. Probably even trapped in the other realm. Travel between the worlds was still a rare and dangerous feat.

Guilt settled in the pit of David's stomach. What if by not taking Henry seriously before, David and the other grown ups in Henry's life had pushed him to take such drastic measures? Was a quest to the Enchanted Forest really the only way Henry thought he could get their attention, or earn their respect and trust?

"_Mate? Are you still there? You need to get here now! There's no telling how long this portal will stay here!"_

"I'm coming Killian, but I'm making a call first. Emma needs to know what happened."

* * *

><p>Emma knew she was probably wearing a hole in the floor of her parent's loft with all her pacing. Mary Margaret had taken baby Neal to his doctor's appointment for a check up and wouldn't be back for at least another hour, and she'd be less than pleased with the path worn into her floor when she returned. But Emma couldn't find it in herself to care; she was too caught up in her thoughts as she replayed everything that had happened that afternoon.<p>

When Regina had first called asking for Henry, her voice tight and words clipped, Emma wanted to call the other woman a helicopter mom, the kind that couldn't go ten minutes without knowing where their kid was. But she knew that would be hypocritical of her. Emma felt the same unease whenever Henry was missing for too long, so she couldn't blame Regina for worrying, even if it made Emma feel like a helicopter mom too.

Regina was just trying to work through the same awkward dance they seemed to go through almost every day involving their son. It was a dance of phone calls and conversations revolving around trading nights for Henry, who was feeding him, who was taking him to and from school and on what days.

Regina had tried to institute a schedule to make things easier for everyone, but the schedule never seemed to last the week when a new crisis forced everyone's sleeping arrangements into total disarray, so they had given up on that all together.

Something about Regina's call though, it set off warning bells in Emma's head, and her gut fluttering with anxiety.

So she'd called Henry, or at least tried to. Her son wouldn't answer his phone and the butterflies inside Emma's stomach only flapped harder.

He was just busy sparring with David, she reasoned, just so busy for an entire day that neither of them had remembered to call.

When that thought didn't lessen her growing concern, she called David, only to have every mother's worst fear realized.

Her son was missing.

For an eternal moment her mind was in overdrive. Her traitorous thoughts painting gruesome and dark scenes of the terrible fate that could have befallen her son; Being taken hostage by a new villain come for revenge, sustaining a grievous injury, getting lost in the woods in the coming storm. What if this was Neverland all over again?

No.

She couldn't think like that. Couldn't let her fears get the best of her. She was Henry's mother and the Savior. She had to focus and find the answer.

Something in what David was saying had to hold the key. He spoke frantically, obviously afraid of whatever her reaction might be (And he had every right to be terrified. Her son had gone missing under his watch and if Henry was hurt… No! Blame wouldn't solve anything, only finding the solution! Focus!).

Henry had run off on his own into the woods after unleashing what sounded like several years of pent up aggression and pre-teen angst, complaining about how nobody seemed to trust him to do anything but hide, and sometimes not even that much. Had he really been holding all of that in for the past few years? Why hadn't Emma noticed?

The tiniest weight lifted off of Emma's chest. Running was Henry's choice, she realized, not some new villain's. He'd gone off for his own reasons, but with the barrier in place he was definitely still in the Storybrooke town limits, which meant they could find him and then talk to him about what was a less dramatic means of getting their attention. It didn't change the fact that Henry was missing but at least she didn't have to worry about some new form of magical evil hurting her son. All she had to worry about now was the time it would take to find him before the storm came in.

While she was lost in her musings, David had kept on talking over the phone. Emma had no clue when Killian had shown up at the park, but apparently he had witnessed the entire exchange and had tried to explain to David how Henry wanted to prove he was growing up. He said something about how Henry was thirteen and not four years old, and then something about living on a farm (It didn't honestly make much sense, the way David reiterated it, but she got the gist. Damn it if her pirate didn't make sense even through the convoluted frantic speech of her father.).

"Of course Killian would see through… But if Henry wanted to be treated like an adult he wouldn't have run off. Shouldn't have run off. Or he'd at least have the common sense to call someone or- I don't know if he's being dramatic or just- Grr! Forget it, I'm calling that kid again!" Just because she followed Killian's logic it didn't mean she had to like it. And just because she was the Savior looking for a solution that didn't mean she wasn't allowed to be at least a little emotional about her missing son.

Henry's outburst and running reminded Emma a lot of something she would have done while in the foster system. Her reasons for running had been different but she didn't want Henry unknowingly repeating her greatest hits from back in the day.

Another call to her son's phone left her with nothing but more ringing and the chance to leave another message. Emma kept pacing the length of the apartment, phone tapping against her chin in failed distraction.

Damn it. Should she call Regina and tell her what was happening? How would that conversation even go? Hey Reggie, Henry's missing and we have absolutely no idea where he is or what the hell happened to him but don't worry because we'll find him without any clues at all.

Right. Because that would go over so well with the former Evil Queen.

She should go out and search too, she thought, but what good would it do when she had no idea where to start looking? She didn't know which direction of the woods Henry had gone running into and she definitely didn't know how to make a locator spell to find him…

But Regina would know.

Damn it, she really would have to make the phone call. Fine then, she'd tell Regina what had happened, somehow take the blame for Henry's disappearance, and then they could make a locator spell to find him. At least she had a plan of attack now and she could hopefully squash the niggling itch in the back of her mind that said something else was wrong.

Emma was about to call Regina when her phone rang and her father's name flashed on the screen.

"Tell me you found him," He must have found Henry. That was the only reason he would be calling again.

"_Killian found Henry's phone and he knows where he is!" _No Henry, but it was the only lead they had so far. This was good right? Killian found Henry's phone and Henry, so now they could all come back and talk things over. So why was she still nervous? This was more than just helicopter parent worry, there was something else going on.

She bit her lip angrily, physically holding back a frustrated growl. Villain involvement or not, Henry's disappearance was setting Emma on edge, and as much as she wanted this clue to be a good sign, it felt like a bad omen. Emma tried not to let her anger through too much but her words came out harsher than she intended.

"Knows where…? If my son's not with his own damn phone then where the hell is he?" There was the itch, the tickle in her mind that had been there since Regina first called asking about Henry's radio silence. It was connected to his phone and the clues it provided.

"_The abandoned mansion. There's a door there just like the Arendelle door that Elsa and the others used, but this one goes to the Enchanted Forest and it's in a room with blank storybooks just like Henry's. Killian thinks Henry went through it. I'm headed to the mansion now. Meet me there so we can-"_

"I'm calling Regina." Henry wasn't in Storybrooke. Her son wasn't in fucking Storybrooke anymore. The itch exploded into realization that her instincts were right and why didn't she fucking listen to those instincts before?

"_Emma, there's no time-"_

"She's Henry's mom too and she deserves to know. We're gonna need her help anyway. I'll call her and tell her to meet us." She hung up on her father without another word and dialed the next number. Barely a single ring passed before it was answered and Emma didn't give the other woman a chance to say more than her name, too desperate to rattle off the necessary information and get moving herself.

"Miss Swan-"

"Killian and David found a portal door to the Enchanted Forest at the abandoned mansion in the same room as the blank storybooks. Henry went through it. I'll meet you there." She said it all in one breath and hung up before the former Evil Queen could say a word. Emma grabbed her leather jacket off the coat rack and raced down the stairs to her car, fully prepared to break the land speed record to get to the mansion.

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**So we've got lots of reactions from Henry's family. Everyone's reactions are more/different from going to Neverland b/c back then they had more information to go on and Henry didn't leave willingly. In contrast, walking through the portal door to the Enchanted Forest (Which we all know is no picnic of a place. It's dangerous too.) on his own is kind of a slap in the face to everyone who tried to keep Henry safe, so they're reactions are going to be that much more extreme. His family tries to keep him safe from harm, and he goes running off into the belly of the beast. **

**For all that Henry is really sensible, he's also prone to the same human ego and ambition as anyone else. **

**Next time, Henry's first encounter in the Enchanted Forest.**


	3. Chapter 3

**On to the Enchanted Forest with Henry! Thank you all for sticking with this story and for all of your faves/follows. Leave a review at the bottom; they are fuel for the muses. **

**Warnings: Fantasy violence (That's how the films describe it, right?), and descriptions of corpses and death (Not entirely sure if this bit needed a warning but better safe than sorry). **

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The first thing Henry noticed walking through the magic door, was how much better he liked this inter-realm portal than the one he'd been forced through to Neverland. He had been kidnapped by his dad's supposed fiancé and her boyfriend through a watery portal that had landed him flat on his back on what had to be the most miserable beach he would ever see. And then the Lost Boys had shown up with their welcome wagon and things just got worse and worse.

Inter-realm kidnappings were no easy business.

Using the mansion doorway though, was as easy and nondescript as walking into another room, albeit a really big room that looked like a charming forest. For all Henry knew he wasn't even in the Enchanted Forest, and it was all just a magical room or illusion in a very large and poorly planned mansion.

It certainly felt real though. Birds chirped from somewhere in the canopies of towering evergreens, and the air was heavy with the smell of the forest. Henry took a deep breath, taking in the heavy scent of pines and fallen leaves after rainfall. Had it been raining here just like in Storybrooke? It seemed like an odd coincidence, unless that was just how the weather here usually was?

The door closed itself behind him with a soft click, but didn't disappear from its place standing in the middle of the woods, all at once promising an escape route back home but teasing Henry to just _try_ and reopen it. Henry's gut told him it would be locked, and he suddenly felt like he'd been cut off, as if he were well and truly alone now. This was not just a room. He really was in the Enchanted Forest. And he really was on his own.

A strained smile reached his face. He would worry about getting back to Storybrooke after his quest was over, whenever that was.

Henry readjusted his backpack on his shoulders, straightening the straps in hopes of physically setting his resolve. This was what he wanted, a chance to prove himself. And what better way to do that than on a quest in the Enchanted Forest?

The only way to go now was forward, so that's what Henry was going to do.

He just wished he knew which way that was exactly…

Looking around again, the once charming fairy tale scene was suddenly vast and foreboding. He had no idea what time of day it was, or where the sun even was in the sky. The tree line was too dense, and the clouds were too thick.

Robin Hood had told Henry once while camping with the Merry Men that he always had a compass bearing in mind. As long as he knew which way was north, he always felt at least somewhat in control of his destiny. Henry briefly wondered if a world full of magic would somehow affect his compass differently, since it was made in another realm. He quickly pulled off his bag and groped through the contents for his compass, finding it tucked on the bottom under a notebook.

Henry laid the compass flat in his hand, watching the arrow spin wildly for a moment before it settled on a point somewhere towards his right. Unless some weird sort of magic was involved that affected magnetic fields, then that had to be north.

He had nothing to lose, so why not just pick a direction, and stick with it? See what happened? At least he had some sort of directional bearing now. As long as he started moving he would hopefully run into a sign of people or a town eventually, what did it matter which way he started looking?

He would try west. There was always adventure out west. It would be like those cowboy movies where the heroes rode off into the sunset to their next adventure.

So that was what Henry did. Compass in hand, he walked west in a magical forest with no idea what might be out there, just hoping to run into something.

And run into something, he did.

It was less than half an hour after he started walking (He may not know the actual time of day, but he could at least keep track of how much time passed), when he heard the clang of swords and cries of a fight.

Henry's feet raced to the source of the sound, eager to see what was happening. It should have scared him, the idea of an actual fight where people got hurt or died, but he was too excited. Finally, something to see that wasn't childproofed or toned down. He could see what a real sword fight looked like and find out who was fighting. Maybe he would get to meet another fairy tale character from his book?

He reached the edge of a small clearing, and moved to watch the fight unfold from behind a thick tree.

At first Henry was shocked to see what looked like a group of trolls all ganged up on one person, but as he watched he saw that the one person was handling everything easily. The knight dodged and parried every attack the creatures sent their way, tossing aside the axes and spears with a few well-placed sword strokes and quick footwork.

Even though they weren't dressed like a traditional knight, they were exactly the kind of warrior that Henry wanted to go on a quest with. Their helmet and armor were made of thick leather and cloth instead of metal, but it didn't seem to matter because the trolls weren't landing any blows and the knight clearly knew what they were doing and were in total control of the fight. They knocked the creatures to the ground one after the other with brutal efficiency, dodging about like it was all some deadly choreographed dance.

It wasn't until one of the creatures, previously unconscious, moved to strike the knight from behind that Henry revealed his hiding place.

"Behind you!" He cried, unaware he'd moved from behind the tree or said anything until the words had left his mouth.

The knight and the trolls all looked up, startled at Henry's sudden appearance. But the knight recovered first, and drove a long sword through the attacking creature's gut, a strangled groan escaping it before it dropped to the ground. The knight's sword cut swiftly through the flesh of two more of the creatures, both falling to the ground while they bled out, unmoving. A fourth creature was shoved aside while the knight exchanged blows with the largest and last troll in the group, which was so powerful looking it could probably smash a tree trunk with its bare hands.

Even with the obvious precision of their sword work, Henry could tell the knight was getting tired. They'd been fighting too many enemies for too long and their movements were starting to get sloppy. If they didn't take down the last two creatures soon it'd be over for them.

The next moments happened in slow motion for Henry. He saw the creature that had been shoved aside recover and move to swing an ax over its head. It was intent on bringing the weapon down on the knight, who was unaware and caught up fighting the largest creature. Henry reacted, and threw his arm in a pitch he desperately hoped was reminiscent of the one baseball game at Yankee Stadium he and Emma had gone to during the forgotten year. The compass left his hand in a long arc and somehow hit it's mark. It flew straight into the head of the ax-wielding troll, not knocking the thing unconscious, but startling it and forcing it's attention away from the knight for a moment longer.

The moment was everything the knight needed to kick the largest creature away several steps, swiftly turn around, and decapitate the distracted ax troll before turning back to the last foe. The behemoth of a troll approached the knight: arms overhead and mouth open in a ferocious scream, ready to smash the knight to bits. But even in exhaustion the knight was still faster, and avoided the troll's arms to shove the sword straight through the creature's throat, stopping it in its tracks.

They held the blade there for a moment and Henry watched in captivated horror as the troll tried to breathe through the sword in its throat and the blood that was quickly filling its lungs. With a great cry the knight heaved the sword sideways, halfway decapitating the troll and throwing its body to the ground with a heavy thud.

Silence filled the air and now that the fight itself was over, Henry could take in the carnage before him. The lone knight was drenched in the blood of their enemies, standing over their corpses, shoulders heaving in exhaustion and sword dripping red. It was a gruesome picture, far more so than Henry would have ever expected to find in someplace as supposedly magical as the Enchanted Forest.

The image only half shocked him though, he realized in surprise. He'd grown up and learned the dark history of all his family members and the twisted truth of their fairy tale lives. Between literal stolen hearts, kidnapped children, wars, curses, and general death and destruction at every turn, Henry knew a sword fight was probably as simplistic as his adventure here was going to get, even one as gory and intimate as this.

That was probably why it didn't occur to Henry right away to be revolted by the sight of the dead. Nor did it occur to him to be afraid of the knight, although it definitely should have, considering he had just witnessed the knight's full fighting prowess take out five trolls. If anything, he was still unnaturally excited at this chance meeting. Of all the people he could have run into in the Enchanted Forest, he found a skilled knight.

This wasn't luck. It had to mean something.

"That was amazing!" He exclaimed, moving into the clearing to pick up his compass. His eyes tunneled in on the knight. "And you are totally badass! Where'd you learn to fight like that? It was so cool!"

The knight didn't even turn toward Henry. Their helmet-clad head tilted to one side as they spoke, voice muffled by the material.

"You sound pleased," The voice started, confused, "But what does an unruly donkey have anything to do with me, and how can it be a good thing?"

"No, no, it's an expression. It's kind of like admiration because you're tough." Clearly he would have to tone down some of the terminology from his world; otherwise he'd be explaining every other word he said.

The knight moved to wipe their sword clean with their cloak before sheathing it in one motion, and taking a long look at the dead trolls surrounding them. "This is not something to be pleased with. I should not have killed them. They were victims of circumstance."

"Oh, um… I didn't know," He finished dumbly, unsure how to respond to the somber tone. "What kind of circumstance?"

"Something forced them from their home, and I intend to find out what." The knight turned to face Henry, pausing for a moment in contemplative silence before speaking again. "Have we met before? You seem familiar."

"Not unless you've been hopping realms." He struck out one hand to the knight in belated greeting. "I'm Henry."

The knight looked at his hand briefly, then reached up to remove their helmet. Long black hair spilled out and piercing, feminine brown eyes met Henry's in acknowledgment as their hands met in a firm shake. "It is good to finally meet you Henry. I'm Mulan."

"_The_ Mulan? _Mulan _Mulan?" Henry couldn't help it. He was completely star-struck. He had already been impressed with the knight's bravery and skill, but the knight in question turned out to be the one and only Mulan. This must have been what it would feel like to be saved from the Terminator by Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Mulan was suddenly fidgety and nervous at Henry's excitement, shifting her weight on her feet. "Is there another with my name…?" Henry realized he was still clutching her hand and quickly dropped it, but his excitement did not lessen.

"No way! It's totally you! Oh my God, this is so cool! I didn't think I'd get to actually meet you. I mean, you're movie was really good and when mom and Mary Margaret said they met you-"

"There's that word again, movie," Mulan interrupted. "What is it? Baelfire used it and he never explained."

"Baelfire? You mean Neal? He's my dad! Did you know him?"

She nodded, a small smile coming to her face in memory. "That's why I recognized you, Henry. You look so much like him. And your mother told me of you when I met her; she's a brave woman. Are they both well?"

Henry suddenly felt a familiar weight settle in his gut. The same conflicted weight that always came when he thought of his dad. It was less than it used to be, but it was no less strange. He'd barely known the man, and didn't have his memories of him when he died. Even when he'd gotten his memories back, he realized he had very few memories of him and his father together, and there was no way to fix that now that he was gone. Almost everything he knew about Neal was a second hand story, and he had to rely on other people to paint a picture of the man half responsible for his existence.

"He um, my dad died, actually, about a year ago. He's buried back in Storybrooke. Mom's back there too. Alive, though! She's alive, just, back in Storybrooke."

Mulan's expression softened in apology. "I'm sorry to hear that. He was a good man." Her eyes turned thoughtful. "Does this mean you're alone here?"

"Well…" He shrugged, "Yeah. Just me."

Her eyes went wide with sympathy. "Henry that's terrible. Being forced from your world. I'll do my best to help you return to your family but I'm afraid I know very little about portal magic."

"What? No, I wanted to come by myself. I just walked through a door and ended up here."

Mulan's face was incredulous. "You _chose_ to leave the safety of your family to come somewhere so dangerous? Why?"

Her disbelief had Henry defensive. He stubbornly crossed his arms in front him, puffing out his chin. "I'm thirteen, and my family doesn't get that I'm growing up. I have to prove that I'm not some little kid they can shove in a closet when things get bad, I can help them. This is the best way to get them to see that."

She sighed in frustration, moving to collect various items from the troll's corpses into a pile. The ax and spears they'd attacked her with, some jewels, and several small bags of what sounded like coins. "Henry, this isn't about being a child or an adult. It's dangerous for anyone to be out here alone."

"You're out here alone."

"And it's just as dangerous for me, but I've learned to be alone," She insisted, turning a sharp look on Henry. Her eyes were hard and seemed older, lonelier, in that moment. It made him wonder just how long she had been on her own. She shook her head; clearing whatever thoughts she may have had from her face, and kept collecting items from the trolls.

Henry wanted to keep arguing with her, but bit his tongue to stop himself. He wanted to tell her he was ready for this, ready for his own adventure and his own chance to prove himself. But the loneliness in Mulan's eyes struck a chord in him. It was the same look he had seen on Emma when he found her in Boston. She had been on her own for so long, and as he learned later, had been hurt by people close to her. It took his mom a long time to open herself up to others, but since then she was thriving. At least, Henry thought she was. She'd definitely taken up the mantle of Savior with some serious authority since the Wicked Witch affair, and didn't look like she was slowing down anytime soon.

But it had all started because he found her in that nearly empty Boston apartment, and believed in her.

Maybe that was why the door had brought him to Mulan out of all the places it could have dumped him in the Enchanted Forest. Maybe he was supposed to believe in her, and she in him.

He was convinced that meeting Mulan wasn't just luck, and that it was supposed to happen. If that were the case, then Henry would make the most of what fate had thrown his way.

"I'm coming with you, Mulan. You said so yourself, it's dangerous to be alone, so I'm coming with you." Killian had once told Henry to never knowingly make an enemy when an ally could be gained instead. Supposedly that thinking was what led to Hook's adventure up the beanstalk with his mom, but if Henry remembered Hook's telling of the story correctly then it had ended with Emma handcuffing him to some rubble in the giant's castle.

Somehow Henry didn't think Mulan would cuff him to anything.

Mulan looked hesitant, mouth drawn into a thin line as she considered Henry's idea. It was another look he recognized from his mom's early days in Storybrooke. She wasn't saying no, but she wasn't saying yes either.

"I can help you figure out what happened with the trolls," He tried, "You said they were victims of circumstance, that they'd been forced out of their home. What did you mean?"

She kept her eyes locked on his for another moment. Henry could see her mentally weighing the pros and cons of telling him the details of her quest. Every controlled breath she took was another point for or against him, and he was getting antsy with the wait. Unlike Emma, Mulan seemed meticulous and thorough in her decisions, playing out every scenario in her mind until she reached a satisfying conclusion that would leave no room for question. No matter how long it took her.

His fate rested in her hands, so all he could do was try not to fidget while he waited.

She took a final, long breathe in through her nose, then let it out loudly, and Henry swore it was somehow more decisive sounding then any of her sword strokes against the trolls.

"Trolls don't leave their bridges and dens for much except the passing traveler. They rob them, sometimes kill them, and hoard the treasure for themselves," She started, moving back to the pile of items she had created, neatening it briefly before turning to start rolling the trolls bodies into a row several feet away. It was only then that Henry re-noticed the bodies, his stomach turning at the sight and stench of them only feet away from where he stood.

Mulan seemed unconcerned, and kept working, and explaining. "But these trolls robbed a village several miles from where their den should be. Something forced them from their home, and if it could force them this far, there's no telling what else it could do, or has already done."

Watching Mulan maneuver the trolls was probably the most disturbed Henry had ever felt, but somehow that word didn't quite cover it. The sight stirred something in his gut that had him nauseous and green and wanting to throw up at the smell of it all, but at the same time there was a stone in his throat, keeping him from upchucking anything, no matter how much he wanted to. Somehow, he knew that standing there watching her would only make it worse. Maybe helping her would put him less on edge, even though he would be touching the corpses.

He grabbed two scraps of cloth from one of the trolls and wrapped his hands before helping Mulan in her efforts. He'd been half right about helping Mulan. Moving the heavy, lifeless bodies of the trolls gave him something to focus on, even if it was the very thing he was trying to distract himself from.

Thankfully, it wasn't long until the five trolls were lined up, flat on their backs, and Mulan stood in front of them with her head bowed.

Henry didn't know exactly what she was doing, but he knew it would be disrespectful to interrupt. He waited until she lifted her head again to ask.

"A moment of silence for them," She answered. "It's not an entirely proper burial, but it's the least I can do. They truly did not need to die this day." Henry had never really considered what happened after a sword fight. He'd learned enough history in school to know that after great battles the dead were sometimes collected for mass burials and other times left to rot in the fields on which they fell. But after a sword fight like this, where there were only five dead, he had no clue what the norm was. So Mulan's arrangement of their bodies and silence was about as expected as anything could have been, even if it had been uncomfortable and morbid. But coming from her, the whole thing teemed with a sense of honor and respect. The trolls weren't trained warriors like Mulan, but she had done her best to show them some respect even in death.

It made Henry very aware of the fact that taking lives, deserving or otherwise, was nothing to treat lightly.

Mulan's voice broke through the melancholy his thoughts led him down. "If you wish to come with me, then you can help me bring these back to the village," She said, hefting several spears over one shoulder, bags of valuables dangling from the ends.

Henry stilled. It wasn't the first moment of doubt he'd had since coming to the forest only an hour ago, but it was definitely the most vivid. He wanted to go with her, and even though that meant more adventure it also meant more death and danger. He had thought he was ready to bear all that, to handle that kind of heaviness. Henry knew he could handle himself in a fight, but what about what happened after the fighting was done? Handling the trolls had left him queasy and unsure, could he really handle that kind of aftermath?

He took a calming, full body breath.

The only way to go now was forward, and he knew now more than ever that meeting Mulan was not a chance occurrence.

She would help him prove his worth. She would be able to teach him what it took to succeed on a quest and handle the aftermath. And he would believe in her, and hopefully help get rid of some of that loneliness in her eyes.

This was his chance, and he wasn't letting it go.

Henry set his shoulders, hoping to shake off the last of the unease from handling the troll's bodies, and started picking up the remaining weapons and bags.

He saw Mulan was waiting for him on the western side of the clearing. He chuckled at the realization that he was still moving west, and walked toward her with the remaining items.

She noticed his sudden laughter and her head tilted in confusion, silently asking what was so funny when he'd been so uncomfortable only moments before.

"It's nothing, Mulan, it's just… We're going west. I randomly picked a direction to go when I got here, and now I'm still going that way." It was dumb, but moving further west made Henry feel just a bit better. Like this was the right thing to do and he wasn't crazy for waltzing through the doorway in the first place. God, he'd barely come to the forest more than an hour ago, how could he have gone through so many ups and downs already?

She considered him briefly. "You think this is a good sign? Traveling in the same direction?"

"I ran into you, didn't I? Seems like a pretty good sign to me."

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**I'm unreasonably excited to write Mulan! We know so little about her background on OUAT but there are so many possibilities to play with. It's fun to see her pop up in seemingly random places on the show and make the rounds with so many characters. She's been on journeys with Belle, Philip, Aurora/Mary Margaret/Emma, Hook, Robin Hood et al. Neal… The woman is EVERYWHERE. **

**Right now I've got her pegged as a very honor-bound warrior so we'll see where the muses take her in terms of growth (I know where I want her to go. I just need to get her there.). **

**As always, drop a line with questions/comments/concerns/predictions**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so glad people like the meeting between Mulan and Henry! It's gonna be fun writing them together. **

**As always, read and review!**

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By the time David arrived at the mansion night had fallen, his truck was running on fumes, and he wasn't sure he could feel his fingers. Either the digits had gone so cold in the rain that he really had lost feeling or he had gripped the steering wheel so tightly he'd cut off his own circulation.

As if a little thing like finger sensation mattered right now.

The rain was pounding harder and felt like it was trying to blind him as he drove up the road and haphazardly parked in the middle of the mansion driveway behind Emma's yellow bug. He slammed the door shut and ran up the steps, taking them three at a time. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Regina speeding up the driveway. She pulled up behind him, her car screeching to an angry halt on the pavement. David could feel the anger rolling off the Queen. It was a miracle she hadn't set anything on fire yet. Her control must've barely been in check.

David didn't know his way around the extensive mansion, and was ready to run through every room and floor, screaming for Emma and Killian until he found them. Before he could, Regina called out to him impatiently from a side hallway, "This way! Hurry up!"

"How do you know-?"

She didn't answer him, already turning down the hallway with surefooted strides, the heat of her magic practically scorching the air around her. For all her obvious fury, she was very controlled, the line of her shoulders rigid and strong. Her physical assuredness was a stark contrast to the turmoil that must have been exploding inside of her at Henry's disappearance.

David ran after Regina, following her around every tucked in corner and side door. He nearly lost sight of her several times when she pulled on a trick book or false candle to open a secret passage. This mansion was a labyrinth that would drive a person insane.

Whether it was five minutes later or fifty, it took entirely too long for David's liking to reach the secret book room. As they entered he saw Killian standing dejected to one side and watched Emma drop her glowing hands to angrily pull on the handle of a painted wooden door that stood ominously alone in the middle of the room.

"Seriously? Open damn it!"

"I told you, Emma, it was locked when I got here. We don't know what kind of magic surrounds this door. Perhaps it means to keep us out." To say Killian looked terrible would have been a gross understatement. He wore the face of a man about to fall from his last hope. The pirate had been out in the storm for the better part of the afternoon and had sat in front of the tauntingly locked portal for the rest of the day, so close but unable to go after Henry to remedy his perceived mistake. Killian was still probably thinking that it was all his fault that Henry had gotten to this door, how if he hadn't held David back in the park they could all be talking to Henry in the safety of Storybrooke instead of trying to fly to the Enchanted Forest after him.

Emma finally let go of the door handle to face Killian, whose hand and hook were paused halfway to holding her, torn between moving closer and pulling back.

Emma's voice was barely restrained in anger as she spoke, "There has to be a way through this door. My magic opened the door to Arendelle, so why won't it work here?" It broke David's heart to see his daughter like this. She was so close to being able to run after Henry but was stopped dead in her tracks. This wasn't about being the Savior and unable to help someone, this was Emma Swan the mother, unable to go after her son.

Regina had heard enough. While David watched Emma and Killian, the Queen had been studying the door and whatever magic prevented it from being opened again. She lifted her hands and David watched in fascination as they glowed an eerie bright green.

"Move," She seethed, her voice no louder than usual but carrying a weight and authority that had Emma and Hook snapping to attention, finally noticing the two new comers.

Hook's arms finished their initial movement and reached for Emma, pulling her away from the door just as Regina shot the green light at the portal. A white light shone around the door on impact, revealing the barrier keeping it shut. The barrier started cracking in green and white splinters as Regina's magic worked through the portal's shield. With every shattered piece of the shield, the door slowly started to open.

"But how…" Emma started, wide-eyed. She held her hands loosely in front of her, and David knew she was questioning her abilities.

Regina cried out in effort and a brighter pulse of green light emanated from her hands. The light shot into the barrier and pulled the door open wide enough for a person to fit through.

"I'm forcing it. Now go!" Regina called, eyes locked on the doorway.

Emma didn't need to be told twice and she raced through the door at full speed. Hook quickly followed, both of them disappearing into the splintering green and white streaks of magic.

From where he stood behind Regina, David could see her shoulders shaking from magical strain. And as he moved to run through the door himself he caught sight of Regina's face. Her mouth was tight but trembling, her eyes narrowed angrily but brimming with unshed tears. She wasn't going through the portal, he realized. Regina was staying to keep the doorway open and was sacrificing her chance to find her son. She trusted them to bring Henry back safe.

In that split second, he made a choice. Instead of running through the portal, he grabbed the door to wrench it open further. As soon as his hands touched the wood he felt a surge of energy pour through him. It was like lightning and fire rushing through his veins, burning him from the inside out. His hands felt scorched and seared where they met the wood of the door, and he didn't know if his desperate attempt would make a difference at all in keeping the portal open. He only knew he wanted Regina to have the chance to go after her son.

Regina's eyes locked with David's in surprise and her mouth opened, probably to yell at him for wasting time. She never got the chance to reprimand him though, because he yelled out to her first.

"Go!"

Regina paused only a second longer to send David a single, grateful look before running through the shattering portal herself. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the door was yanked from David's hands and snapped shut with a resounding thud. He fell to the floor, suddenly exhausted and barely able to move, the world fading in and out of focus around him. He wondered briefly if that was what handling magic was like. It was pure and lethal power and took the life right out of him.

And apparently also his skin. Looking down at his palms David found that the scorching feeling from the door was far from imaginary, and had left some very physical marks on him. His hands were burned an angry red and blistered in several spots. If he had held on any longer he could very well have lost all of the skin, could have lost the hands themselves. Maybe he wasn't meant to handle that kind of magic, he thought wearily. But the deed was done and he wouldn't change his actions.

There was no doubt in his mind that he made the right decision to have Regina go through the portal instead of him. He remembered when Zelena had taken his son Neal from the hospital only months before. Being able to run after her had been a blessing David didn't know he'd had. It had given him a sense of purpose at the time, instead of having to wait for someone else, albeit people he trusted, to bring his son back to him.

Looking at the painted door David knew it would stay locked now. If there were already magical protections in place that even Regina had to force her way through then it was inevitable that the door stay closed. But maybe he could get Belle to help him find a way to open it for the return journey. She knew Gold's shop and inventory like the back of her hand. There had to be a spell in there that she could use.

Just as David was beginning to hope the door would be his family's ticket back to Storybrooke, it started to vanish. Bit by bit, in circles of white and green tinged light, the door dematerialized in front of him. It was as if the door read his thoughts and was taunting him, saying 'nope, not this way'.

Soon he was left lying in the room with the blank storybooks, alone with his thoughts and seared skin. Not knowing if Emma and the others had even reached the Enchanted Forest or if they had been thrown through the portal to somewhere realms away from Henry. He had to believe they would find each other though, because if there was one thing David Nolan and his family were good at, it was never giving up on each other.

He would have to tell Mary Margaret what happened, he blearily realized, and then they could talk to Belle about finding a different portal to bring everyone home. Of course, he would have to find the energy to move first though.

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><p>Anger was the first thing that crossed Regina's mind when she saw David trying to hold the door open himself without magic. How dare he waste her efforts, she had thought. He knew she didn't need help opening the portal, had seen his daughter and the pirate run through it already. So what in the hell did he think he was trying to prove?<p>

Gratitude was the next thing to cross her mind. He'd told her to 'go', to find Henry while he stayed behind. She didn't question it or waste another moment, only hoped he understood her unspoken thanks as she raced through the doorway. Whether or not he realized the depths of what he had done in that moment Regina knew she would be forever thankful for his trust in her and understanding that she needed to find Henry herself.

Robin was gone from her life forever, and Regina knew she couldn't handle losing Henry too, not again. At least by going to the Enchanted Forest herself she felt as if she had a say in the matter of her son's return.

Unlike other portal doors where a single step was all that was needed to cross the realms, this portal felt like running through a long tunnel. A tunnel that happened to be collapsing and proverbially flooding behind her, trying to pull her under its magical weight, but Regina ran harder, her legs burning with the effort. She could feel something ahead of her pushing back as she ran blindly forward, trying to force her into the abyss behind her. It was like trying to sprint through rapids while outrunning a whirlpool, and it was just as impossible to breathe.

Something really didn't want them getting through that door.

The realization made Regina run harder, just to prove her would be nemesis wrong. Her lungs burned from the lack of air and her legs threatened to give out on her, but couldn't give in, not when Henry's life could be on the line. She burst through a barrier only moments later, leaving the drowning maelstrom of the portal behind. Suddenly she was weightless, nothing pushing against her front and nothing chasing her down from the back. Her limbs sputtered in relief at the lack of pressure and she flew forward. It was several steps before she caught herself from careening face first into the muddy ground, arms thrown out beside her in an attempt at balance.

It took her a few moments to catch her breath, but even then she still felt winded. She had used too much magic to force the portal open, Regina realized. It could be days before she got back to full strength. That was time she didn't have. Henry could be in danger at that exact moment and she wouldn't be able to help.

A squelching sound brought Regina's attention to her traveling companions, who were currently finding their feet in the muddy forest clearing. It was so dark she had trouble seeing their figures standing several feet away.

Hook, though completely drenched from the rain in Storybrooke, seemed to be mud free, and was currently lending a hand to the Savior, who had tumbled into the slick ground.

"You ok?" Regina heard him ask, puppy dog eyes probably pleading as usual.

Emma took his offered hand up and brushed the mud off her jeans and leather jacket as best she could. "Just once I'd like to land on my feet out of a portal," She muttered, annoyed.

A loud slam echoed through the clearing and the three whipped around to watch the portal door slam angrily shut. The door started to dematerialize in a mist of green and white light that lit the dark clearing in an eerie glow; giving the three several moments of light that lingered after the door vanished.

The pirate turned to Regina. "Where's David?" He asked warily. Emma's eyes stayed nervously glued to the disappearing door. Regina knew that she was afraid her father was trapped inside the portal during its collapse, but she didn't need to worry.

"He let me go through," Regina answered. When two sets of eyes locked onto her she shifted her feet, anxious under their scrutiny. "David held the door open and let me go through instead of him. He's back in Storybrooke."

Green eyes met brown and held them for a moment before softening. Emma realized why her father let her through instead of coming himself, and Regina was grateful for the Savior's understanding. The one thing they'd had in common since before the first curse was broken was their personal responsibility for Henry's safety.

Emma absently flipped her blonde hair over one shoulder with a still muddy hand, eager to move the conversation forward. "So, if we had that hard a time getting through the door, then how the hell did Henry manage it?"

"Perhaps the doorway chose to let him in, but _only_ him," Hook offered. "It may be a temperamental portal of sorts."

"Doors can be picky? I don't know if I buy it. I thought portals were supposed to just be open or closed? Not have moods." Emma cast a doubtful look at the pirate, but looked a little unsure of her logic.

"The pirate may be right," Regina noted, surprising them both. "It's not exactly about mood, but there are some portals that are magically inclined to only let certain types of people through, like the pure-hearted. But this door…"

"But this door what?" Emma asked, taking several steps toward Regina, boots squelching in the mud.

Regina struggled to put the words together in her mind. She wasn't certain herself yet, and she didn't want to give the wrong impression about the portal's nature, lest it lead them all on a wild goose chase away from Henry.

"If it were about being pure of heart, that wouldn't have stopped you, Miss Swan. You are a product of true love and have plenty of light magic ability," She mused. "This portal's magic was… raw somehow, and untrained. It looked like the Arendelle door and even tried to behave like it, but it was just a field of shifting energy and intention."

"And for those of us not magically inclined…?" Hook questioned, irked at being out of the loop.

"You were right Killian. Someone didn't want anyone but Henry using that door," Emma's voice was hollow in realization. Regina didn't want to admit what such a thing implied, but she knew Emma was thinking the same thing as her. A portal made specifically for Henry could mean someone wanted to lure Henry away. Maybe they had a vendetta against her or the Savior or someone else from Henry's life, or maybe word had gotten out that Henry possessed the heart of the truest believer. Information like that couldn't have stayed confined to Neverland forever. It wasn't much of a stretch to assume his heart could be used for any number of magical purposes, be they dark, light, or otherwise.

"Possibly," Regina answered, voice tight and her arms curling tensely around her.

The three were quiet for several moments, lost in their thoughts of what magical force had brought Henry to the Enchanted Forest and been so keen on keeping everyone else out.

Fully taking in their surroundings for the first time Regina realized her clothes were probably the least practical things to be wearing in the Enchanted Forest after a rainstorm and she wished she had brought a rain jacket of some sort with her. Instead, she was stuck wearing the pencil skirt, blazer, and blouse she had spent the day doing paperwork in. While her boots were at least slightly more practical than stilettos, even with their thin heels, she was sorely tempted to use what little magic she had right now to change outfits.

She knew she wouldn't though.

The portal had dumped them on the top of a wooded hill, overlooking a misty valley of dense pine forest. It had clearly rained earlier, and for the rain to seep through the thick trees of the forest enough to muddy the ground this much, it must have been one hell of a storm. But the sky was mostly clear now, moonless and starry with only the barest wisps of spent rainclouds floating through the night air, and when Regina looked up she saw the constellations of her childhood. If Regina remembered correctly and if the doorway worked like other portals she had used, then it was probably around the same time of night and year here as in Storybrooke.

"Does anyone else find that particular blot of mist to be a tad out of place?" Hook pulled the two women out of their reverie, pointing to a wall of impenetrable clouds trapped in one corner of the valley several miles away, covering a good chunk of the forest below. The clouds were too thick to just be mist or fog, and more closely resembled the dense thunderclouds that probably caused the earlier heavy rain. But the way they just sat in the valley, impossibly unmoving and stoically rigid, had warning bells going off in Regina's mind.

There was something magical and wrong about those clouds.

"Why do I get the feeling Henry probably walked straight into that stupidly ominous mist?" Emma asked, decidedly not amused at the realization.

"Because he's our son and a trouble magnet," Regina replied easily. She knew logically it was too dark to safely follow after Henry's trail, (Assuming he'd willingly gone into the grounded cloud of death in the first place, but then again, where else would he go?) but she'd be damned if she was going to let something as inconsequential as a lack of light stop her. "Miss Swan, I do believe we need some light if we're going down this hill anytime soon."

Emma looked at Regina curiously. "You're not gonna use your fireballs?"

Regina gave in to the urge to roll her eyes. "I can't do all the magical heavy lifting, or did you miss the part where I forced open a locked portal?"

The Savior looked ready to snap something at Regina, but the one-handed wonder swooped in front of Emma with a hand on her shoulder "Emma, love," He started quickly. "Henry can't have gone far and he has the common sense to stop somewhere for the night. We can catch up to him, wherever he is."

Regina almost missed the change in the pirate's voice. It was less cocky than usual, more prayerful and dare she say, apologetic. Regina certainly wasn't Hook's biggest fan but she was still grateful for everything he had done to help them in the past and even today. He had clearly been out in the Storybrooke rain for some time so he must have been searching for Henry just as diligently as David was. And he found the portal door at the mansion that Henry had probably used, so what did he have to be apologetic about? If anything, his apology seemed more like a concerted effort at fixing something.

Uneasiness settled in the back of Regina's mind. Whatever that something was he was trying to fix, Regina would bet anything it had to do with Henry. Maybe it even had to do with why Henry ran through the portal in the first place.

If Emma noticed the change in her boyfriend's tone she didn't acknowledge it or even look at him as he spoke. Her eyes were now glued to the foreboding cloud in the valley, green orbs hard and determined.

"My light, my lead Regina," The blonde said, voice steely and leaving no room for question.

"Fine." If the Savior wanted to lead during the night then that was fine with Regina. She wasn't going argue. She was too emotionally and magically drained to put up much of a fight anyway.

Emma took a steadying breath and held one hand in front of her, brow furrowed in concentration for several moments, before a halo of light filled the area around her in the form of a handheld fireball.

The relief on Emma's face was almost comical to Regina. Why was the Savior always so surprised whenever she used magic for anything outside of a fight? Yes, magic stemmed from emotions, and it was always easier to draw from them during the heat of battle, but Emma had come a long way from accidentally blowing out walls or overheating a baby bottle.

Emma strode forward to move down the hill and toward the cloud, fireball in hand and Hook following closely on her heels like a lovesick puppy. Regina walked with them but kept several steps behind. Their boots squelched with every step and Regina couldn't help the quiet scoff that escaped her at the ridiculousness of the sound. Knowing their rotten luck, they were walking straight into a great big magical disaster that Henry would somehow be at the center of, and they were going to get there by squishing along a muddy forest in an oddly anticlimactic, entirely laughable fashion.

She had faced far more frightening and dangerous things than an echoing squelch to achieve her goals, and as long as Henry was ok and she could get him back to Storybrooke safe and sound, Regina would do whatever it took to find him. She might have to survive camping with captain guy-liner and the Savior to do it, but she would find her son.

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><p>"So does this make me your squire?"<p>

Mulan looked at Henry curiously as they walked through the downtrodden village, but didn't answer him. Night had just about fallen as far as she could tell (Truthfully it was so dark earlier that Mulan had a hard time knowing just what time of day it was at all. The clouds seemed thicker than usual of late.) and the pair still needed to drop off the stolen items from the trolls before finding somewhere to sleep. While Mulan would have been thrilled to have a soft bed, she knew they would more than likely be shown to a haystack in a barn or stable. A town as poor and down on its luck as this one rarely had enough beds to sleep its own residents, let alone travelers. There wasn't even an inn to speak of, which made Mulan all the more certain that they rarely got any travelers at all that needed putting up for the night. It reminded her of home briefly and she forced the memories aside before they could plague her the way they always did.

"What about your apprentice? It'd be so cool to have an apprentice. Someone you could pass things on to and teach. Like in Fantasia! And Star Wars! You could be my Sorcerer or my Obi-Wan Kenobi!" Obi-who? He must have made those things up. There was no way such things could exist outside the realm of an individual's imagination.

How could this be the same young man who, only hours earlier appeared ready to faint at the sight of the troll's deceased bodies? Were all of his questions and nonsensical ramblings a coping mechanism? Mulan didn't recall Emma Swan or Baelfire shying away from the dead in her time with either of them, but their life experiences had likely forced them to a certain level of tolerance around the deceased. It was certainly something she had been forced to learn early on.

Henry, for all his enthusiasm and zeal about adventure, seemed far too green in his endeavors. She still wasn't sure what his so-called quest was for. He claimed it was to prove his worthiness and maturity to his family, but Mulan was starting to think perhaps he wanted to prove it to himself more, even if he didn't realize it yet. He was clearly a well-learned young man who had potential and ambition, but to do what exactly, Mulan didn't know.

"This is your first time in this realm, yes? And you don't have a map or way of knowing where you are in the forest?" She asked, curious about his answer. A few townspeople wandered around them as they walked along the dirt road, staring oddly at Henry's strange clothes and how _clean_ he looked. Mulan couldn't blame them for staring, since she was just as curious about some of his garments, even having seen his parent's clothes. His pants were an odd textured shade of blue and his shoes, though covered in mud from their walk, were bright and colorful. And with his red scarf, clean dark coat, and chin held high, Mulan thought he would have fit in fairly easily with some of the nobility she had met in her travels.

It made him look all the more green and ill fit for the forest.

"I told you I have a compass," He offered defensively, as though preparing himself for her dismissal.

Mulan didn't want to dismiss him. She had been serious when she said it was dangerous to be alone in the forest, and she certainly didn't want Henry wandering around there in all his inexperience and naivety. That was what she told herself anyway. Part of her admitted that maybe she had been on her own for a tad too long and just wanted some company, even if she had to take the time to teach him to survive in the forest. There was just one thing she wanted to be certain of first.

"You mentioned that you picked west at random to travel, and that you were happy to be moving further west. You admit you had no way of knowing what lay ahead, so why did you choose that direction?" She was testing him. It was a little mean of her but if he was going to tag along she needed at least some shred of evidence that he wouldn't impulsively fly off the handle at the first chance, and that he could focus and be logical both when it counted and when it didn't necessarily matter. Good instincts were one thing, but having the patience to find the right signs and clues to make an informed decision was another thing entirely.

Henry shrugged. "I didn't know what was in any other direction either. What did I have to lose?" It wasn't the answer she had hoped for, but it struck a chord in her nonetheless, bringing with it an unbidden memory.

"_I'll go west. I've nothing to lose now."_

She barely recognized her own voice in her memories anymore. Had it been so long since she'd thought of them? She never liked reliving those moments, even in the privacy of her mind where she had full control over them, so to have someone bring it up so unexpectedly for her…

"Um, Mulan?" She came to and saw Henry staring at her oddly.

She gave him a smile. Maybe this was what she needed. Some fate had brought them together and she wouldn't turn from it. "I don't know who this Obi-wan is, but perhaps there is no name yet, for what it is we are doing."

Henry's lips curled unhappily. "So I'm not a squire then?"

"No Henry, you're not a squire." But you could be a friend, she thought. "We need to bring these to whoever is in charge. Then we can find a place to sleep."

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**So a little peek into Mulan's thoughts and now we've got our other key players in the Enchanted Forest. **

**In case it wasn't clear, the portal spat Regina, Killian, and Emma out somewhere different from where it let Henry out. **

**Remember, reviews make the muse happy!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Real quick, let's check in with Killian, and then forward! Because who wants some action? Henry does! That's who! This one got a little long on me. I seem to be making these chapters longer bit by bit. Also, you all have no idea how absolutely excited I am about some of these Author hints we've been getting in the recent episodes. Seriously, it's a little scary. **

**Warnings: More fantasy style violence and gore at the end of the chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.**

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The bright light of Emma's magic glowed in her hand, lighting the dark forest around them as she walked ahead of the three, but to Killian its warmth was both mocking and deservedly out of his reach. It reminded him of the stars he used to navigate the Jolly Roger by at sea, an unattainable beacon to chase forever. The only difference was this light was one he had held in his hands. He had felt the warmth of Emma's magic, of her love, and now he feared he was going to lose it.

He should never have let Henry go running off at all, should have gone after him and held the lad back so they could talk it through. But no, he had to hold David back because Killian thought he knew what Henry was going through and thought the lad needed time to himself.

But bloody hell, he _did_ know what was racing through Henry's mind when that wooden sword had shattered on the ground. He understood exactly where Henry's anger was rooted and what could have happened or been said should he have stayed with them in such a riled state. Killian had been younger than Henry when he accused Liam of-

He shook his head violently and instantly regretted it when a dull ache formed in his skull. He wasn't going to think on the past now. There was no time to dwell on ancient history when Henry was somewhere alone in the Enchanted Forest.

Killian's foot caught briefly on a hidden root, and he stumbled a little before righting himself. He half expected one of Henry's mothers to roll their eyes at his lack of coordination, but neither turned their heads or even seemed to acknowledge that the slip had occurred at all. He didn't blame them. No one had so much as spoken since they started walking from the hilltop where the mysterious portal door had spat them out several hours before. They were all too lost in thought to voice anything aloud, and had yet to stop for more than a few moments to check that they were indeed heading toward the fog they had first spotted.

He felt a yawn coming on and did his best to force it back, along with a mental cloudiness that was quickly dulling his senses. It wouldn't do any good to be tired yet, even if they had all been awake for a literal day. He knew he was right when he said that Henry would find shelter for the night, and that every step they took in the darkness was a step closer to finding Henry without the lad inadvertently walking away from them.

Dawn would rise in a few hours and he had every intention of finding some tangible clue as to Henry's whereabouts so the search could continue in the light of day. Hopefully there would be a footprint or some fallen item from his bag. Gods knew the lad carried the thing everywhere he went without fail, surely something had dropped from it? Even better would be finding someone who had seen Henry. Assuming the lad hadn't changed clothes to try and blend in it would be easy for any local to recall the strangeness of his garments.

It took Killian a moment to notice he was so lost in thought he had actually fallen a short ways behind Emma and Regina. He jogged to catch up, the cloudiness from before coming over him in an unsettling wave. Killian shook most of feeling aside, but some of it lingered, threatening his senses with deception should he lose focus. But a little light-headedness wasn't going to stop him from fixing his mistake and helping Swan and Regina find Henry. He just had to push the sensations aside and concentrate on the task at hand, and maybe on the placement of his feet as well. Killian very much doubted they would be stopping to rest somewhere anytime soon.

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><p>They spent the night in a barn.<p>

Henry had no illusions about what sleeping in the Enchanted Forest would probably be like, and had dreamed up scenarios of camping under the stars and learning the realm's constellations. So when they arrived in town the night before his hopes were raised high that they might have a couple of beds instead of being forced to sleep in the mud. Trekking through the forest with all of the recovered weapons and gold was more exhausting than Henry would ever let on, and a mattress stuffed with goose feathers sounded beyond heavenly right then.

Unfortunately, the elderly man who very eagerly accepted the gold and other stolen items from Mulan had been nothing but apologetic when he was unable to offer them anything else but the hay in his barn. For her part, Mulan looked completely unfazed by the news and thanked the man graciously for his hospitality, so Henry did the same, even if his face didn't entirely match his verbal gratitude.

The empty barn was dry and mud-free but also bitterly cold, and the hay they slept on was itchy even through his thick pea coat. He tossed and turned trying to get comfortable enough to sleep but only succeeded in burrowing inside the straw and covering himself more thoroughly with needles. Henry was sure he would be picking bits of hay from his clothes and hair forever after.

The few times he did manage to fall asleep, he sneezed himself awake and woke Mulan, even though Henry wasn't entirely sure she slept at all. She sat against the hay with her head forward and one hand clenched around the hilt of her sword in a way that must have been exhausting. Every time Henry opened his eyes during the night he saw her twitch, her body tense and her grip tightening further on the weapon, as if she was responding to a potential threat. It was only when she realized there was no real danger that she relaxed and her shoulders lowered by a hair, but her grip on her sword never loosened.

She must have been light sleeper for a reason, Henry thought. It made him wonder yet again just how long Mulan had been on her own that she needed to be so alert all the time.

It had to be one of the longest nights of Henry's life, made longer by the still dense clouds holding the light of the rising sun hostage in the morning, and keeping the village and the surrounding forest trapped in darkness. It was so dark that when Mulan shook Henry awake at what she insisted was well past sunrise, he could only stare at her in disbelief. But his watch read 7:42am, so she must have been right. Maybe the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke were in the same time zone, or at least something close to it.

"Do roosters not crow at sunrise here? Cause I was kinda looking forward to an old timey wake up call," Henry asked, only half-serious. He refused to let his exhaustion show, and if being a little more sarcastic and talkative than usual got him through the day, then that's what he would do. If that didn't work, he could distract himself by picking out the infinite hay needles from his clothes and hair.

Mulan smiled good-naturedly at him. "A rooster cannot crow if it is not present to do so. Come, we'll find some food then we should be going."

"Ok, that first bit sounded way more wisdom-y than you probably meant, and it was awesome," Henry noted, impressed. He grabbed his backpack, which was equally covered in needles, and followed Mulan out of the barn into the nearly empty street.

The dankness of the looming day made it hard to keep up his cheerful façade for too long. Without the sun's direct heat and light, the morning air held an unusual, almost unnatural, chill to it, that was miraculously absent from the faces of the few townspeople who were brave enough to leave the warmth of their homes. A layer of fog rolled through the town in unsettling waves that sent shivers up Henry's spine and he found himself wrapping his coat a little tighter around him to fend off the strange cold. He looked skyward, and saw the same thick blanket of grey as yesterday holding the sunlight prisoner, and looking nearly ready to shower the town in more rain. Henry briefly wondered just how often it really rained in the Enchanted Forest, because it definitely looked like it was more often than the impression he'd been given by his grandparent's stories or those in his storybook.

"I don't think I like those clouds," He mused aloud, "There's just something weird about them. And the fog, it's kinda creepy."

"Perhaps they just feel different to you because they're clouds of another realm," Mulan suggested. Her voice sounded absent, as if she didn't entirely believe what she was saying, and her eyes began scanning the street quickly in search of something.

Henry decided to drop it for now. He had nothing but a gut feeling to go on, and Mulan was probably right anyway. He was just jumpy because he was somewhere so drastically new. "Ok, so I know I said it was sage-y and whatever, but what did you mean about the roosters? Does it have to do with why there are so few people in town?"

Mulan was still searching the town in passing glances left and right, probably for somewhere to eat. "The town is… not well off." She kept her voice low as they walked passed several locals who looked at them curiously.

"So they're dirt poor and don't have a lot of livestock." Henry didn't bother to keep his voice quiet.

She threw him a scathing look that would have made Regina proud, and he felt just a little sheepish, but not enough to stop.

"Is that why you helped them with the trolls? Since the villagers couldn't do much themselves? I mean nobody here looks ready to fight off a troll attack."

He saw Mulan take a deep calming breath and he got the vague impression she was counting to ten to stop herself from hitting him. "It's rude to speak ill of people or their lot in life. I would have thought you're mother taught you better manners than that."

"She did! Regina practically drilled them into my head," He responded. Did Mulan really think he'd grown up in Regina's house without learning proper table etiquette and how to say 'please' and 'thank you'?

Mulan turned to Henry abruptly, bewilderment etched on her face. "Regina, the Evil Queen? I thought your mother was Emma Swan?"

Oh.

It was then that Henry realized Regina raising him wasn't exactly common knowledge in the Enchanted Forest. He also realized that not everyone had the same history and memories of Regina as him, and that most of the world, especially the residents of the Enchanted Forest, still thought of her as the Evil Queen who had terrorized them for years and enacted a dark curse that ripped them from their home world. They hadn't seen her trying to change over the years like he had. Hadn't seen her trying to save him in Neverland, or defend Storybrooke from Zelena, or how kind she'd been with Robin Hood and Roland. They didn't see that she was capable of so much love.

It was also possible they didn't want to see those changes. Sometimes it was easier to think of a person in only one way instead of seeing how time could change them. He remembered how people in Storybrooke who had seen Regina making amends still walked on eggshells around her and looked at her with undisguised wariness.

Henry had also seen how the entire town, especially his own family, was unwilling to see _him_ as anything but a child even though he was growing up right in front of them. It was why he'd come to the Enchanted Forest in the first place, to prove he wasn't a child. Regina was _very_ slowly winning people over back in Storybrooke, and she'd been succeeding with Emma and his grandparents, among at least a few other people, so there was no reason to think he couldn't change all their minds about his actual age if it was working for her.

But until he knew where Mulan stood in her opinion of Regina, it was probably a good idea not to go into too much detail with the warrior about his adoptive mother. He still needed the woman to like him enough to let him travel with her.

"It's complicated," He muttered, not sure if he was hoping for Mulan to ask him if Regina had changed from her villainous ways or to drop the subject entirely.

Mulan gave Henry a curious look that told him she knew there was more he wasn't saying. But she didn't push him for answers, just moved on to reply to his earlier question about the lack of capable fighters in the village.

"A friend I once traveled with impressed on me the importance of helping those who cannot help themselves. Not every town is so lucky as to have soldiers or warriors of their own. So when I heard the rumors about this valley and the people suffering within it, I came."

Henry was about to question her on those rumors and comment on how very Robin Hood-like she sounded when a gruff voice called out to the pair from behind.

"In the spirit of helping those who help others, what sort of host would I be letting guests go hungry? Especially when they've helped us so?" It was the old man from the night before who had given them use of the barn. He limped toward them on knobby legs with a long stick meant to act as a cane. His white hair was too thin to warm his head just as his raggedy clothes were too thin to warm the rest of him. And even though he was deathly pale, his tired eyes sparkled with a carefree light that had Henry feeling guilty for his ungratefulness to the man the night before. The guilt intensified when he realized he couldn't even remember the man's name.

"Went to the barn to bring you food before you left, but you'd gone. Good thing my wife noticed you on her way across town," The man explained, eyes crinkling with his smile.

Mulan was quick to object, a little more adamantly than was probably needed. "There's no need, really," She tried. "We should be going anyway."

The old man shook his head at her refusal, his voice gravelly with age and leaving no room for argument. "Nonsense. I insist. Join me in my home for a while. Not often we get travelers." He turned and slowly started walking back toward the house by the barn that Mulan and Henry had left only a short time before. Henry was happy to follow the old man, but Mulan held him back, gloved hand insistent on his shoulder.

"Henry, about the fog being '_creepy'_? You may be onto something," She whispered to him, her voice low enough to not be caught by wayward ears. "We should leave."

And just like that, the downtrodden village didn't seem so quaint anymore. Henry let his eyes wander the town around them, and he noticed the townspeople all seemed just a bit too pale and thin. Their clothes were too ragged, their smiles miraculously bright and forced, and there was something ominous in the mist flowing between the buildings that Henry couldn't name. But creepy as it all was and as much as he didn't like it, Henry couldn't find it in him to be afraid of the fog or the weirdly cheery old man and townspeople either. If anything, it just made him more curious.

"Well, do you know what it is? The fog I mean. Is it magic?"

Mulan's eyes hardened. "No, I don't know what it is, and I don't need to find out. We have a troll bridge to get to," She reasoned, trying to persuade Henry with the adventure he had asked for.

But Henry wanted to know about the fog, not to mention the man had promised them food and Henry wasn't about to deny his stomach something to eat. "We need to stay. Maybe the old man knows something about the fog, or about why the trolls were all the way out here."

Mulan's eyes continued to hold his in steely determination, but Henry held her stare. Why was she so desperate to leave, he wondered? Was the fog really that dangerous? If it was so deadly, something would have happened to them by now, or at least to the villagers, and they were perfectly fine.

Her eyes flickered from Henry's to the retreating old man, who had only just realized they weren't following him and turned to wait for them, his eyes patient but expectant. Mulan gave a sigh of defeat, "Fine, we'll see if _Friedrich_," She emphasized the man's name sharply off her tongue, "Knows anything. But we can't stick around for long. We'll see what he knows then leave."

Henry grinned widely and didn't give her a chance to change her mind. He turned on his heel, running forward to where the old man, Friedrich, was waiting down the street, and stood with him until Mulan joined them moments later.

The walk down the street made Henry feel like he was toeing the line between a frigid mountain and a blissful meadow. On Henry's left, Mulan was icy and tense, her darting eyes less inquisitive and more at the ready; as if she were waiting for something to just jump out and attack her. So maybe she hadn't been looking for food earlier, she'd been on guard for something to strike out of the fog, whatever that something was. On his right, Friedrich made distracted small talk with himself about the local gossip, his voice gravely and unending in a way that made it impossible to get a word in edgewise as he moved fluidly between topics.

"Helga and her boys came back the other day from the next town over," He mentioned, "But would you believe it, they forgot to bring back the fabric they bought there in the first place!" Before Henry could comment on how unlucky that must've been, to make such a long journey for nothing, Friedrich had moved on to talking about a nearby town whose populous had all but vanished, and then to the young lovers who thought their midnight trysts were somehow secret and not the talk of the town.

(Henry thought he had a pretty good idea what went on during the sort of 'trysts' Friedrich was talking about, but he'd be the first to admit it was still something of a blank spot for him. He didn't dare ask Emma or Regina for answers and they hadn't tried to give him any sort birds and bees talk yet. Did they really think he was such a kid he didn't need to know about sex? Everything he thought he knew on the subject he'd learned in health class in school, but just knowing the mechanics of how babies came to be still seemed weird and disgusting. The idea of kissing though, wasn't _entirely_ gross…)

It got to the point where Henry was confident he could retell the gossip on the entire town backwards and forwards. He was also confident that Friedrich had left out a few details about something going on in town that was a little more important than a few missing tools or midnight escapades.

Henry didn't quite have his mom's gift for spotting a liar a mile away but he'd been around Storybrooke's citizens long enough to know when people were keeping secrets. It was in the way they skirted a little too easily through certain details, or tried to steer attention away from whatever they were trying to hide. In Friedrich's case, it was the way he burned through every topic too quickly without stopping to even look at Henry's reaction to the freak memory loss of an entire family, as if he were trying to distract himself from something that was eating at him.

Once Friedrich had seemingly finished talking gossip he started distractedly praising Mulan's efforts from the day before. "You are a skilled warrior and we owe your courage much," He said, not looking at Mulan at all. His word choices were somehow neutral and his shifting eyes raised more red flags in Henry's mind. Friedrich had been so confident when he'd first approached them about having breakfast, what happened to that? "The way you chased those thieving men out of town was something we don't see very often out here."

"What do you mean _men_?" Mulan walked ahead several steps and planted herself in front of Friedrich like an immovable mountain, her eyes blazing in challenge and shoulders even more drawn and tense than Henry thought possible. "I chased five _trolls_ out of this town yesterday and killed them in the forest. There were no men."

The bite in her voice was enough to get Friedrich to stop his never-ending stream of empty words, but he still wasn't looking at her; in fact, he looked very interested in everything else and avoided her at all costs. And he only spoke again after several long moments. "About that… Thought we would have more time before the last one but this morning… Well, might need your help again…"

He trailed off and something cold and heavy settled in Henry's gut. Mulan must have shared his growing dread because her eyes widened briefly before narrowing into accusing slits.

"Friedrich, I think we need to have a talk." Mulan's commanding voice was icy and the image of that frozen mountain, cold, foreboding, and impossible to ignore, was back in Henry's mind.

Friedrich had the decency to finally raise his eyes to Mulan but didn't get a chance to answer her when a loud crash and echoing snarl pulled all their attention to a building around the corner from where they had just been.

"The hell was that?!" Henry cried, jumping at the sound.

Mulan was already on the move, drawing her sword in one smooth motion. "Stay here!" She called out, racing toward the sound without a backward glance.

Now that he'd been told not to get involved, it was all the motivation Henry needed to go after her. If there was another fight, he wanted in. Besides, as badass as Mulan was, even she could probably use a hand sometimes.

Henry ran toward the crashing sound after Mulan, turned the corner, and was met with the most hideous troll-like creature he had ever seen, even compared to the five from the day before. It seemed bigger than the largest troll from yesterday, and sounded ten times angrier. The creature snarled and yelled, mindlessly smashing into homes, and knocking aside anyone in the way like they were little more than rag dolls.

His feet were frozen in place as he watched the troll about to squash a young boy who had fallen to the ground in his haste to get away, but there was Mulan throwing herself in the thick of it to shield the young boy from harm. Her blade cut a small way through the troll's arm before forcing the limb to the side, the wound bleeding profusely and spattering the ground in streaks of dark red as the troll cried out in pain.

Henry watched the boy scramble into one of the nearby buildings, far away from the reach of the fight and into the waiting arms of a woman that had to be the boy's mother. Something flickered in Henry's chest and he forced it aside, turning back to Mulan's skirmish to find a way to help the warrior.

Throwing the troll's arm aside had put the creature off balance and Mulan had taken the opportunity to kick it down to the ground. But this troll was faster than the group from yesterday, and rolled out of the way before Mulan could bring her sword down on it. The troll was fast enough to not only avoid Mulan's sword strikes, but to stand back up again and launch a counter attack. It smashed its meaty fists into the ground trying to pound Mulan to bits, leaving imprints of its hands behind in the mud and dirt.

Soon the creature had Mulan on the run, and she dipped and slid and danced around the incoming rain of fists. The ground shook from the troll's efforts and Henry somehow knew Mulan wouldn't be able to hold off the troll for much longer. She was still exhausted from the fight yesterday, and he knew for damn sure she hadn't really slept the night before.

Damn it all, he needed a weapon! He needed something to help Mulan fight this thing!

"Yah!" Henry heard Mulan give a great cry and watched her try and go on the offensive, twisting her body to gracefully avoid another fist and simultaneously swinging her blade in a sweeping arc into the troll's side. But she wasn't quite fast enough and only managed to graze the creature, barely breaking the skin of its torso before it's heavy arm slammed into her, throwing her aside and straight through the window of someone's house.

"Mulan!" Henry cried out. He started to run toward her in the house but the troll cut in front of him and Henry turned on a dime out of the way of the incoming maelstrom of fists. It was all Henry could do to keep dodging and fleeing the troll's attacks and he slid carelessly through the mud, feet never quite steady enough to make a decent retreat.

He had no weapon, no magic, and no clever tricks to fight this thing. He wanted to take the creature down but how the hell was he supposed to do anything?

He rolled as far away from another attack as he could, hoping to put some distance between himself and the troll, and landed right onto something long and hard; Mulan's sword. She must have dropped it when the troll knocked her aside, Henry realized.

Hope restored, Henry quickly took hold of the sword in both hands, stressed for a moment to remember how Grandpa David had taught him to hold it. It was heavier than he thought it would be, and he struggled for a heartbeat to hold the sword fully upright.

Henry watched the troll approach him and somewhere in the back of his mind noticed the necklaces swinging around the troll's neck and how out of place they seemed on the creature. He didn't have long to dwell on the thought though, when the troll reached him and swung an arm at him sideways, nearly taking Henry out. But he parried the attack, sliding it off the sword's edge and cutting a long thin line along the creature's arm. It wasn't enough to hurt it, and it definitely didn't do anything to slow it down, but Henry felt the impact all the same, and felt how that brief contact forced him to slide sideways with the troll's arm and lose his footing in the mud.

"_Stronger stance, Henry,"_ He remembered Grandpa David saying only yesterday, _"Let your legs help."_

Henry reset his feet, stance wide but strong, just in time to take another hit from the troll's arm. He let this attack slide off the sword too, and was able to keep his footing a bit better and force the troll off balance a little. Henry remembered the troll being in the same twisted position only moments before against Mulan, and how she had used the opportunity to kick the troll to the ground and gain the upper hand. But when Henry lifted his leg to kick the creature aside just like she did, he didn't take into account that Mulan was so much stronger than him that her initial parry had knocked the troll aside more than Henry's had. Henry also didn't realize that this time the troll was prepared for the attack.

The creature grabbed Henry's leg midair, yanking him from the ground and quickly tossing him across the road. The softness of the mud was probably the only reason Henry wasn't more seriously injured but the landing still hurt like hell and his head throbbed from the impact.

He could see perfectly clearly, but everything in his head felt foggy after the hit and his body refused to move. The troll strode toward him with purpose, eyes locked on his and footfalls heavy enough to shake the ground underneath Henry's ear even from a distance. Every step was a vibration that sent waves of fear rushing through him and he realized in horror that it wasn't any injury that paralyzed him; it was fear that kept him from rising and defending himself, from fleeing the troll's imminent attack.

This might be it, he thought shakily. He might really be done for. He'd gone running off to the Enchanted Forest on some stupid quest and he was about to be pounded into nothingness for his idiocy. His family wouldn't even know where he'd gone or what had happened to him. That realization stung worst of all.

Henry was still trapped in his fears when the troll finally reached him. It raised one meaty fist high overhead, clearly meaning to bring it down hard on Henry. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the creature. No matter how terrified he was of what was about to happen, something stubborn in him needed to see these last moments, needed to see the fists arcing down onto him.

The troll gave out a great cry of effort and then suddenly one of indescribable pain. Henry tore his eyes away from the troll's fists to see a dagger being driven into the creature's side. It was Mulan; she was still standing, still fighting. There was a trail of blood dripping from her head and her armor was twisted around her body from being thrown, but her movements didn't let on to any other injuries she might have suffered. She just kept digging the short blade into the creature's torso and twisted it before yanking it out rapidly, blood spraying out from what had to be several of the creature's internal organs.

Her movement flipped something back on in Henry. If she could fight after taking a hit like that, then so could he. Henry was suddenly hyper-aware of everything around him, even if he had no control over his body. He was aware of the slippery, cold mud underneath him, the feel of something warm, wet, and metallic spraying over him, and the weight of Mulan's sword still clenched in his hands.

His body moved on it's own as his legs struggled to lift him against the give of the mud. He felt the heavy weight of the sword in his hands and realized his arms were moving in an upward arc to bring the blade to its target in front of him. Distantly, he noted the ringing in his ears was his own cry of effort, but the sound was muted to him and the only sound he could register in that final moment was the crunch and squelch of the sword slicing straight up into the troll's throat, through it's jaw, and into it's head. Henry wasn't tall enough or strong enough to push the blade all the way through the thick bone of the skull, and he needed all the adrenaline rushing through him to slice the sword through any of the resistance of the creature's flesh.

He watched in horror as the troll sputtered helplessly against the impalement, it's eye rolling in it's head as it struggled to breath, just like the troll that Mulan had impaled the day before. Every movement the troll gave in it's dying moments caused another jerk against the sword still trapped in Henry's hands. The grotesque connection between Henry and the troll brought the creature's pain to the forefront of Henry's awareness and he grew sick at the thought.

Reality starting to set in, Henry tumbled several steps backwards, taking the sword and the troll's necklace with him into the mud. The troll swayed for a long moment before falling to it's side, the ground quaking under its weight.

Henry's eyes were glued to the air where he had just impaled the troll on a sword and killed it. Oh God, he had killed it. _He_ did it. _He _was physically responsible for the death of this creature. It was different than watching the trolls fall to Mulan yesterday or watching Greg and Tamara die in front of him on the beach in Neverland. This was ultimately his doing. Heaviness came over him and tightened in his chest, matching the tightness with which he was still clutching Mulan's sword.

Henry couldn't find it in him to loosen his grip on the weapon at all. The sword anchored him, and if he let up he would surely float away and lose himself to some madness.

"Henry? Henry?!" He finally turned to Mulan who was wiping off and re-sheathing her dagger. His eyes were still wide with what he'd just done. "Are you alright?"

Henry tried in vain to find the words, or even his voice, but the sounds coming from his throat were unrecognizable to him.

Mulan came to kneel in front of him, her hands moving to his shoulders and he found he was grateful for the contact. "Henry, are _you_ alright?"

He stared at her, quiet for what felt like forever, before nodding slowly, not trusting his voice. Mulan's shoulders finally dropped and she sighed in what Henry hoped was relief even if he couldn't quite find that same calm himself yet. She moved her gloved hands on top of his, both pairs covering the sword hilt, and rubbed them against his skin soothingly.

"It's ok now, Henry. You're ok. You can let go now." Her voice was soft and he was reminded of his early childhood nightmares when Regina would comfort him in the night, telling him everything would be all right and that he was safe.

When his vice grip did finally loosen his hands were shaking so violently he forced them under his armpits to try and stop the trembling. Mulan slowly took her sword, wiped it and re-sheathed it. As she stood up, she took hold of the ancient looking pendant necklaces the troll had been wearing from where they had fallen in the mud.

"Friedrich!" Mulan yelled as she stood, necklaces held in front of her in accusation and anger dripping from every fiber of her. "We're having that talk now!"

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